


Harvested Heart

by BosieJan



Series: The Heart Series [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullrian Mini-Bang 2015, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 21:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4892890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BosieJan/pseuds/BosieJan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Both of them now into their forties and living comfortably on their farm, Rutherford Ranch, Dorian suggests a honeymoon destination and Cullen first needs to rid himself of his fear of the North.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harvested Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct follow-up to my Cullrian Mini-Bang submission, Farmed Heart. I strongly suggest you read that first, or you'll be lost.
> 
> Warnings: SFW, schmoopy romantic garbage, that’s about it.

“I’m not suggesting that we _live_ there, Amatus, but it’s been five years and Mae _really_ wants to meet you in person. She’s too busy to leave, but we’ve got the chance to go, what with the stablehands taking care of nearly all the chores as it is.”

 

Cullen looked up from where he was hammering a shingle into the roof of the newly-built chicken coop--the one inside the barn had become too small after the procurement of another dozen chickens at the spring livestock market--and he frowned almost comically at Dorian, a pair of iron nails held between his lips. He hammered them in before answering, his face showing a no-nonsense attitude.

 

“No.”

 

Dorian scowled. “You’ll make this decision based on what; a childish fear of the North, wherein monsters lurk under every rock and around every turn? You’re a grown man, Cullen. No mage will harm you in the presence of a Magister, and it’s widely known that Qunari don’t eat Fereldans. Something about a dog-like aftertaste.”

 

Cullen snorted and hopped down from the coop, thumping into the semi-dry mud with a grunt. He tucked the hammer back into the satchel of tools and then wiped his brow with the cloth tucked into his waistband. At forty five, Cullen had finally started to grey at the temples, but Dorian adored it. The look matched his own, but Dorian’s was more striking as it contrasted with the black of his hair.

 

“You’re not selling me on this, Dorian. Not even if there was a promise of safety for the entire trip there _and_ back. It’s not Tevinter itself I’m worried about, though the mage threat _does_ lay in the back of my mind like some festering sore; it’s true. I trust you with my life, but they’ll instantly recognize me as an outcast, and it’ll only make your life more difficult while we’re there-”

 

“You mean the way I was treated, after crossing from Tevinter into Nevarra? I was quite obviously an outsider, what with my looks, accent, and ability to be a mage outside of a Circle. Things have changed since the Inquisition was disbanded, Amatus. I promise we’ll make it there safely, and my position, as well as Mae’s position, will likewise provide safety and comfort while we’re there.”

 

Cullen stopped moving the shingles about and organizing them by size, just to look up at his husband with a weary look.

 

“And just how will we be getting there, if you’re so against sailing? It’s a very long trek through the Frostbacks, and then around Lake Celestine.”

 

Dorian visibly perked up and Cullen almost felt his heart break; he didn’t want to go. He didn’t. But if it meant enough to Dorian that they share the trip, he’d go. It would be murder to let Dorian go alone and then be lonely until he returned, and Cullen had vowed to himself to never let the mage out of his sight for any length of time ever again.

 

“We can head toward Jader and take a ship across to Cumberland. It’s short, not on the open sea, and there’ll be traders on board. I could find a few things Mae’s been asking about and return with gifts, as well as a husband.”

 

Dorian knew that the trip would take them back toward Lothering and they’d have to take the long way around Lake Calenhad in order to avoid the Frostbacks and Redcliffe entirely, but Orzammar was friendly enough since the Breach had been closed, and trading had begun anew within the past decade.

 

“I’ll organize everything, and all you’ll have to do is be polite and charming to Maevaris. She’s very fond of you, just from what I’ve told her, and now written to her. She thinks you’re some knight that’s saved me from a dragon or some similar rot. Romantic tripe.”

 

Cullen, shirtless and with sweat cooling on his body since he’d stopped working, curled both arms around Dorian’s waist and hauled them against each other for a firm kiss, not promising more for the moment but sealing their deal albeit somewhat unwillingly.

 

“You’ve got a silver tongue, _Magister_. Careful what sorts of things you convince me to do. There could be talk of persuasion and coercion in the south of Ferelden.”

 

Dorian smiled. “Just like old times.”

 

\------------------------------------

 

They made it to Jader without incident and it was only on the ship that things started to get hairy. Cullen was recognized by someone belonging to the Order, and Cullen was forced to get gruff with the man in order to have him back off. It was still common knowledge that the Inquisition’s commander was a former templar, and seeing him with a mage in close proximity--and sharing quarters upon the ship, no less!--was cause for gossip. Dorian was pleased when a swift punch to the teeth had the man backing right off, but he then spent the rest of the sailing portion of their journey nursing Cullen’s injured hand.

 

The ship arrived in Cumberland and it was a lengthy process to get the luggage and horses out of the hold, but they were on their way through Cumberland and heading right for the Imperial Highway before nightfall. Camping was their easiest method of rest--years of travel and working with the Inquisition had hardened Dorian to sleeping on the ground--and Cullen was fine with sleeping in the elements so long as he had company.

 

The highway would take them straight through Nevarra and into the Silent Plains, where Dorian wasn’t comfortable traveling but could tolerate it for sake of heading back to Qarinus. Then it was a long journey past the Hundred Pillars and into the northern portion of the Imperium, where most of Minrathous’ residents had summer homes, particularly the Magisters and other high officials. It would be hot and it would be busy, but the summer home once owned by Halward Pavus was large and opulent, and Dorian ached to show Cullen how the rich really lived.

 

\------------------------------

 

The land hadn’t changed much since Dorian left it five years earlier, but when they finally crossed into the Imperium, Cullen began to feel weary and somewhat sluggish. Dorian noticed it within the first ten miles but didn’t comment until they reached the largest settlement north of Cumberland. The mid-sized, walled city included a Chantry house, tavern and inn, the house of some minor Lord whose name Cullen didn’t recognize nor really care to remember, and outlying settlements much like the alienages back in the South.

 

They took residence in the inn and Dorian immediately went to the tavern for a few bottles of Tevinter wine, which he’d neglected to bring south with him, and for which his thirst yearned. He knew what was bothering Cullen and he brought a potion back with him to their room, a smile on his face as he saw Cullen resting comfortably on the large, soft bed. The windows were open and their long, flimsy curtains flowed gently in the afternoon breeze, though the temperature had already begun to stay far warmer throughout the day and night, than it ever had in Ferelden.

 

“I’ve enough bottles to once again drink myself mindless, but I’m afraid there is no call for Fereldan ale here, so you’ll have to deal with wine until we reach Qarinus. There are breweries there, where we can find you some standard ale.”

 

Cullen only sighed softly. “I’m afraid it isn’t the lack of a solid drink that’s aching my bones, Dorian.”

 

Dorian nodded, and pulled the potion out of his satchel, its contents a sparkling orange. The liquid was free-flowing, but seemed to almost have a tangible mass, rather than staying entirely fluid.

 

“I’ve something here that may help to calm your ills. It’s not lyrium, as I can tell by your face that you’re concerned about me feeding it to you knowing full-well what it would do. It’s a substitute for lyrium, which has been available for some time in Tevinter, but an item which was never allowed to be sold or traded south of the border.”

 

It had been developed for slaves captured in the South and brought back to Tevinter, whose bodies couldn’t handle the withdrawals--if they were Templars--and for elves whose masters often wanted their senses dulled. They were far more sensitive to the ambient magic in the air in and around the Imperium, and the body aches and eventual insanity from addiction were liabilities no Tevinter master wished to tolerate.

 

“It won’t simply make me stupid, and allow you to control my thoughts, will it?” Cullen teased, leery of the potion but at the same time, willing to take it just to calm his aches.

 

Dorian handed it over after uncorking it, waiting close in case the shock of ingesting it caused Cullen to drop the bottle.

 

“It’ll be a bit of a surprise to your system, but it will calm the effects of the ambient magic and latent lyrium in the air. You won’t feel drowsy or nauseous, but you may become rather ravenous. It’s common knowledge that users of this particular potion gain weight, simply because of the hunger they feel when taking it.”

 

Cullen gave Dorian a deadpan stare. “Is this part of your ploy to make me a fat, happy farmer?”

 

“Hardly; now drink naught but a mouthful at first. Then we can test the potency and perhaps adjust the amount from there.”

 

Cullen tipped his head back and took one drink of the strangely sweet-smelling stuff, then coughed a little as he handed the bottle back to Dorian. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gave another sigh, this time one of contentment. The potion began to undo the knots he felt at the base of his skull, and his entire body felt lighter.

 

“Maker’s breath, that’s incredible,” he said quietly, giving his hands a slow clench as his joints seemed to relax. “Our men could have used that during the Inquisition, Dorian. They could even use it now! There are still soldiers--former Templars and current ones whom are off-duty--that could use it.”

 

Dorian nodded, the gesture more placating than anything. “I’m working with Mae to have it exported secretly for now, but it’s difficult to procure transporters of it. They’re all afraid of being caught and having the Archon’s wrath brought down upon them.”

 

Cullen nodded, knowing all-too-well the fear of having a higher power controlling one’s destiny. “I understand, but I will support you in this endeavor. It’s quite remarkable.”

 

“Mm, it is. Now, a bath is in order, and then we’re going to call for a meal to be brought up, yes?”

 

Cullen pushed himself to his feet and took hold of Dorian’s cheeks, kissing him gently but with a goofy smile on his face. “Sounds perfect.”

 

\----------------------------

 

What Cullen didn’t expect, after traipsing through the Silent Plains and skirting directly below the Hundred Pillars, was catching sight of a city guarded on one side by heavy woods, and fronted on two other sides by open sea, leaving only the approach they had made as the point upon which to take. It was an obvious strategic ploy, but one which Cullen assumed had worked for centuries, as Qarinus was one of Thedas’ first human cities.

 

“If you will, Cullen, have another draught of that potion before we reach the gates. Qarinus is guarded by geists that may or may not react poorly with your body. They’re stronger than the ones we’ve encountered thus far, so I’m a little concerned. Finishing that potion now will counterbalance the effects completely.”

 

Cullen did as instructed and the pair approached the gates; enormous stone pillars carved with intricate spellwork, their design inherently Tevinter by locale, but there was also something foreign about them. Something Cullen couldn’t quite place.

 

“We’ll reach my home in less than an hour. It’s..it’s been a long journey, Amatus,” Dorian whispered, his eyes already filled with tears. He’d wanted to come back with Cullen right from the beginning, but it had taken himself, Maevaris, and their small band of secret defectors longer than expected to garner some semblance of control over their station as Magisters. “But we finally made it.”

 

Cullen smiled but it was a very wan smile; he was exhausted, somewhat dirty, and his body ached from being on horseback, more so than from the ambient lyrium in the air. The potion was doing its job, but Cullen was still weary.

 

True to Dorian’s word on the pomp and circumstance surrounding Tevinters and their lifestyle, a retinue from the Magisterium greeted the pair as they were approaching the city center. The two men were stationed there as guards of a sort, though the Imperium’s own guards stood on patrol at the gates and at strategic points throughout the city as it was. They lifted their hands in greeting and Cullen immediately tensed; a gesture not lost on Dorian.

 

“Welcome back, Magister Pavus,” said the smaller of the two, their elaborate armour glistening and clinking as their horses sniffed noses with those of Dorian and Cullen. “We’ve been asked my Magister Tilani to accompany you to your villa. She has shown concern for the safety of your companion, and we’re to ensure his visit is as comfortable as possible.”

 

The man spoke without ire in his voice and Cullen visibly relaxed, though he periodically threw somewhat panicked glances Dorian’s way as they headed further into the city. Qarinus wasn’t overly large but it was well-fortified, and the summer homes of the rich and powerful lined the shore on the outer wall, so that they faced the sparkling waters of the Nocen Sea.

 

Cullen was shocked by how large the home seemed--by Ferelden standards, it was a castle--and how well-stocked it was. Candles were on almost all available flat surfaces and while he disapproved of the use of slaves, he did not shoo the pretty male elf away when he approached with a gentle smile and a tray of drinks. Ice tinkled in the glasses and both Cullen and Dorian took a glass, then walked to the veranda that faced the water.

 

The guards had left them alone only inside the house--Maevaris had ordered the guards to remain stationed outside of the home until their final departure--and Dorian chuckled as Cullen sneaked an arm around his waist, then sneaked a kiss against Dorian’s cheek. Both were slightly stubbled from the last leg of their journey and the short hair on Dorian’s jaw tickled Cullen’s lips.

 

“So, we made it.”

 

Dorian sipped his drink and then swirled the ice around in the glass, something obviously on his mind.

 

“We did. We’re not going back the same way, however. This may have been a lengthy trip with no interruptions or problems whatsoever, but I’m not willing to make the trip down south on horseback a third time.”

 

Cullen circled Dorian and blocked the mage’s view of the water, again lifting a hand to Dorian’s cheek. He looked confused, but Dorian thought it was an adorable look on him.

 

“And how are we to travel this time? Through the air? Does Tevinter have control of dragons, the way the Qunari wish they did?”

 

Dorian only smiled and ducked forward to peck Cullen on the nose, then took him by the hand to lead him into an adjoining room. In the middle of the largest wall sat an eluvian, its surface covered by a heavy black cloth.

 

“Magisters don’t travel from city to city on horseback any longer, Amatus. We travel via eluvian.”

 

Cullen looked shocked, then angry. “Why didn’t you just use this to get yourself back to Ferelden, then? Why travel through the wilds and take months to return to me, on top of the years it had already been, when you could have appeared out of nowhere in a matter of seconds?”

 

Dorian tugged the eluvian’s cloth down and it woke up, the surface shimmering like liquid metal.

 

“Do you own an eluvian, Amatus? It’s a dual-portal transfer; I enter one and exit another.”

 

Cullen’s cheeks coloured as he realized how silly his rant was, and he dropped his arms in defeat from where they’d been crossed over his chest.

 

“No, I don’t.”

 

“You do now.”

 

Cullen frowned. “What do you mean?”

 

Dorian settled against Cullen with an arm snaked around his waist, his nose pressed against Cullen’s cheek. “The last letter I sent via Pigeon Post to Mae, instructed her to have an eluvian shipped to the farm.”

 

“You..what? It’s Qunari proof, I hope.”

 

Dorian rolled his eyes, but nodded. “Qunari proof _and_ evil Magister proof. Only I may come through for now, but I’d like to adjust the spells upon it in the future, so that Mae can visit from time to time.”

 

Cullen’s sudden laughter was almost barked, and bore the adorable snorts that Dorian had come to love. He snatched Dorian up with both arms about his waist, then swung him around like he weighed nothing at all.

 

“You’re _impossible_!”

 

Dorian smiled, as dizziness quickly set in. “I’m a Pavus!”

 

“Pavus-Rutherford!”

 

“Fair enough, Amatus. I love you, now put me down.”

 

“Love you, too, and no.”

 

“I’ll vomit on you. You’re making me dizzy.”

 

“I promised to love you, no matter how covered in vomit you were.”

 

“Maker’s _balls_ , Cullen. Set me down and we’ll get on with our visit. First stop after the baths, is the bedroom.”

 

“..promise?”

 

“For you; always.”

 


End file.
